


Aftermath

by dridri93



Series: Tragedy on Umbara [2]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Clone Cuddle Piles, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hugs, Nonbinary Character, Post-Umbara Arc (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:22:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27345016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dridri93/pseuds/dridri93
Summary: Boil needs comfort, even if he won't ask for it.
Series: Tragedy on Umbara [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996861
Kudos: 21





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> An anon commenter on _don't ask me (what your sacrifice is for)_ mentioned that they hoped Boil got hugs. I've been in a massive writing slump since early Oct (hence CloneTober being ... 3 days long), but I figured I could let the new month be a new start. So, Hiiii, I hope this hits the spot!
> 
> Unbeta-ed because it's past midnight and I just want to get this up.
> 
> Trifle is an OC of mine and I love xem very much.

Boil woke, back aching, eyes puffy and sore, to the sounds of a full barracks full of sleeping vode. A few snored, relegated to the outside walls where the noise would bother the fewest and surrounded by the vode who could sleep through an artillery barrage.

More than a few had gathered the rock-hard mattresses the barracks were furnished with and spread them out on the ground, two-deep, to sprawl across in piles. Boil had no idea how he’d slept through the noise of the bunks being moved to make space. He supposed he’d been worn out by the time he’d fallen asleep.

He took a few seconds to curl tight around Waxer’s cold, empty helmet, pressing his forehead to the crest again. He avoided looking at the painting of Numa, avoided the long-dried tracks in the dust that his tears had left. He had no more tears to cry, but that didn’t mean his grief had faded.

He sighed, and the vod nearest him startled, apparently awake.

“Lieutenant, sir,” he heard, “did we wake you?”

Boil glanced up to find Trifle, the company medic, watching him with just-banked worry in xyr eyes, lying just on the edge of the nearest floor-pile. “’M fine,” he grunted. “Needed to wake up. Time s’it?”

“Just past dawn, sir, oh-six-hundred standard time,” Trifle said quietly. The vode around xem snuffled in their sleep, and Trifle soothed them with a gentle hand petting over whatever xe could reach. “No one needs to be up until standard noon, Commander’s orders. Umbara has been taken.”

Boil closed his eyes, wishing he could celebrate the victory. Wishing it hadn’t taken from him what it had. “Good,” he ground out.

He’d almost turned back over to try and sleep again when he heard Trifle clear xyr throat.

“Yes?” he asked.

Trifle fidgeted. “It’s just that. It’s cold, sir.” _And troopers experiencing personal loss should be comforted by their vode_ , xe didn’t say, but Boil had heard it before in the medic’s voice. Had said it himself, even, too many times. He’d even had to listen to that same advice more than once, but never like this. Never when it still felt like the wound sat raw and gaping under his heart.

Boil hummed noncommittally, in the way he’d perfected for when Waxer –

For when vode around him started making impossible plans.

“Can’t a man have one night to himself?” he asked under his breath, knowing the answer was _no_. Not when hundreds of vode depended on him to keep them together, keep them moving forward.

Trifle shifted on the mattresses. Xe didn’t deserve to have Boil turn his famous ire toward xem. Xe was just doing xyr job as company medic, making sure every vod was cared for. Even if that vod didn’t particularly want to be cared for at that moment.

Boil sighed. “Shove over, vod.”

He rolled out of the bunk he’d claimed as his own when they’d taken the capital. He hesitated over leaving Waxer’s helmet there, but he couldn’t bring its hard shape into the pile without waking too many vode to be polite.

It would be weak of him, to show that he needed it. He refused to allow his troopers to see him break down in that way. They’d already seen the aftermath.

He left Waxer’s helmet on his bunk, setting it carefully to look out across the piles of vode, Numa’s smiling face a spot of color in the half-light. If he turned to look, he could just spot the blank face of the helmet over his shoulder. Watching his back.

Trifle shoved and jostled vode in the pile until Boil could fit himself into the edge. He settled himself onto that edge of the pile only to find arms and legs wrapping around him to drag him deeper into the pile, Trifle settling xirself on the outside of the pile.

Boil couldn’t even say a word. Protesting now would wake the whole pile, and that ran anathema to everything in him that demanded he let his younger vode sleep. He settled for raising a judgmental eyebrow at Trifle, who tilted xyr head innocently, letting the gold heart under xyr eye shine.

He huffed and tried to force himself to relax into the pile, fitting his arms and legs into the tangle in such a way that his circulation was least likely to be cut off. The quiet breaths of a dozen vode surrounded him and his own breath slowed to match.

Boil hadn’t even noticed his eyes had closed until he heard Trifle hum to xirself and he had to crack one open to see what xe wanted.

Trifle shook xyr head minutely, murmuring, “No danger, sir. I’ve got the watch.”

Boil grunted an acknowledgement, carefully not thinking about how he and Waxer would trade watch shifts just like that. His eyes slid closed again.

Boil felt the warmth of the vode around him cover him, the unconscious twitches of fingers and legs soothing in a way that he doubted he could explain if a natborn asked. Even as dawn broke over Umbara, the light stayed dim as ever, and Boil sank back into the warmth of his vode and the tangle of limbs surrounding him.

He slept, not comforted – the wound under his heart still gaped bloody, and it would for longer than he dared to think about it – but not alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Please leave a comment or a kudos <3


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